| We Have All Been In School At One Time Or Another... |
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We have all been in school at one time or another. We were all aware of who was known as the "class clown," the "one the teacher hated," and "the teacher's pet." In my day there was the "lishka-boy." That was (usually in a boys' or co-ed school) the boy who could not stay still and was put in charge of office (lishka) jobs. He had keys jangling and a clipboard. He may have collected the attendance sheets from all the teachers or had some other job. Today he might be diagnosed as having ADHD and be on or not on medication. He may currently be a multimillionaire who, once out of school, could put to use his multitasking abilities for professional advancement. _option_option I was thrown back to this earlier (high school) period of my life when I sat down in an "off the trendy track" café for a quiet cappuccino. Who did I spot out of the corner of my eye but the teacher's pet! Whoosh, I was back in class hearing effusive compliments for none other than her. Well, certainly never me! I smiled to myself at the power of our minds and especially of memory, for today I might need to write down where I placed the car keys but yet can recall demonstrative compliments given to someone else - scores of years ago, no less. In these few seconds, I also thought of a recent case. On the phone, she sounded like just another seminary student away from home for the first time. That was until she began crying hysterically when the rebbetzin in her halacha class said that she couldn't marry a kohen, and shouldn't even contemplate a shidduch date with one. The tears were so bitter and sad. "Wait a minute," I said. "Did the rebbetzin catch you being assaulted by a goy? All the while I was thinking about some of the axioms that get me through my professional day until I can get further "supervision." One is a legal term in Jewish law: Ein Adam Mashe'em et tami rasha - a person cannot implicate himself as evil. Another is tinok she'nishba - a child who was coerced. Yet another adage I hold from is that you can say almost anything in your first interview with a patient, but afterward there are "civilities" that need to be observed. There are still other axioms that pop to the fore on a need-to-use basis. She gave a loud, "chas v'shalom." Then I asked if she thought she could wait for an appointment in three days hence, hoping that by not responding to her emergency-sounding voice or tears in the same "tone," I would help calm her down a bit until we met. When we met she related a story about a relationship with her young, dynamic teacher in seminary school. This teacher became more than just a teacher; she became her mentor and close friend. So close, that this young woman in front of me had questioned her own sexual identity. After the summer months of being home and going out on a few shidduch dates, she decided that she definitely wanted to rejoin other young women her age, and that she indeed did have interest in getting married. She returned to Israel to a different seminary, and when the rebbetzin gave her talk to the prospective kallot (brides) she panicked at the thought that her "relationship" with her previous mentor made her pasul (invalid) to marry a kohen. My throwaway line to her let her feel that maybe there were other halachic ways of seeing the issue - as indeed there are. All these memories passed before my eyes as I sat with my coffee. A little time went by, and my erstwhile classmate walked over to my table. "You may not remember me," she began, "but I remember you. I'm a psychologist now too, and have been 'reading you.' I read both of your reports, and your articles in Nefesh Israel ListServ and The Jewish Press." Now it was my turn. "Oh, but I do remember you. You haven't changed a bit. I thought that it might be you when I walked in, but then again, I have this hard-and-fast rule that I never say hello to anyone first, as many people don't want it 'out' that they know me or vice versa. I'm pleased that you did come over." We spoke for a while, and she confided that though she is no longer frum she feels a reawakening of her inherent, spiritual soul and came to Israel for the year to work on herself. She added that she holds her experience with a certain teacher as responsible for years of self-doubt, and her anger at "the 'religious' and religion." Whoa, I thought, and this is without even sharing my cappuccino! I was later to understand that after years of soul-searching and what she described as "good therapy," she is in a "different place." Though nothing untoward had taken place between them, this teacher's pet and her teacher had a close relationship for years, which seemingly caused her to question her sexual identity and never allowed her to connect with the opposite sex in a healthy way. (Of late, similar cases have been coming out into the open in Europe, the U.S., Australia, and Israel.) King Solomon said, "There is nothing new under the sun." As students, parents, educators and professionals, we must be aware that we and our teens may be susceptible to mentors who, although seemingly religious and charismatic, are indeed odious. Their interest is not in our children, but in their own narcissistic selves. Originally published in the Jewish Press on November 12, 2008 |
